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“Surely not all adults?”
“Not all, no. But enough that I appreciate the brutal honesty of children more than most.” I shoved two small carrots and a knob of ginger his way along with a potato peeler. “Your job.”
“I find obfuscation a good tool for storytelling.”
“I’m sure,” I told him on a laugh. “Real life storytelling or fiction?”
“A bit of both, I suppose.” He gave that ‘aww shucks’ shrug that I was sure made the ladies go crazy, especially combined with his handsome face. And stupid charm.
“See? You’re proving my point.”
“Me?” He blinked innocently. “What have I obfuscated?”
“Nothing that I can prove.” But I was sure he was hiding something. “But I’m pretty sure you have ulterior motives for joining Time for Love. What are they?”
“Who says I have ulterior motives?”
“I do. You don’t seem like you’re looking for a real relationship, Chris. So what are you looking for?” I had my suspicions, but as a sworn officer of the law, I firmly believed in innocent until proven guilty.
“What is real, I mean really?”
Oh he wanted to be cute, did he? I glared, hard, and Chris swallowed even harder.
“Okay, maybe I’m not looking for real, whatever that means,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m not sure what I am looking for or not, but whatever or whoever that is, I need to be careful about Lila.”
And he had the perfect built-in excuse with her, didn’t he? “Right.” I didn’t believe that for a second, but I also couldn’t deny how much he cared about his daughter.
“Are you upset?”
“Upset? Why would I be upset?” Other than the fact that he’d proven himself to be a liar. Just like the dickhead I refused to think about.
“I don’t know, but you’ve gone kind of stiff. And cold. And pale.” It was almost comical how stiff and scared he was in that moment.
“Nope, not mad. I appreciate the honesty because I always like to know where I stand.”
“All done!” Lila held up two little orange stained hands with a wide, satisfied grin on her face. “What’s next?”
“The fun part,” I told her and cast one quick look at her father before joining Lila beside the sink. “Now we get to rinse like crazy for two minutes and then we season them.”
Lila, like the champ she was, shoved her arm elbow deep into the bowl and swished water all around the sink, laughing to herself. It was damned adorable.
The oven timer sounded and provided the perfect distraction from my conversation with Chris. I hated that I felt disappointed that he all but confirmed my belief that he wasn’t looking for anything serious. It felt like a letdown, like we’d had a really great date and a nice kiss and it was all for nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“You’re mad,” he said a few minutes later while I scooped out the soft pumpkin.
“Not mad.” Just disappointed, and I didn’t want to feel even that. It was one date and it had no direction, just a hint of possibility and that possibility was no more.
“This doesn’t mean we can’t still see each other, Tara.” Like that was some great consolation prize.
I nodded, my gaze focused on the pumpkin. “It means exactly that. I don’t want to date someone if I know it has no potential to lead to something long-term, serious and lasting. You have to look out for Lila and I get that, I even respect it. But there’s only me looking out for me Chris.”
There was a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with his easygoing smile. “So, can we be friends?”
“We weren’t friends before now so how about we just see how things go?” Thankfully there was a precocious eight year old ready to interrupt and get down to the business of cooking with pumpkin.
“What’s next, Officer Tara?”
“How about while we cook, you call me Tara, okay? The first thing we’ll start on is…cookies!”
“All right! I love cookies!”
“Yeah, me too kiddo. And wait until you taste these bad boys, you’ll fall in love with pumpkin.”
An hour later, Lila wore a sleepy smile, her belly full of pumpkin soup, crusty bread and more cookies than any one person should eat in one evening. “Thank you, Tara. I had fun,” she said around a yawn, her head bobbing up and down at the table.
“Thanks for being my sous chef, Lila. You were great.” I handed Chris a container filled with two dozen cookies. “These should last about ten days if you keep them covered and in the fridge.”
“Thanks. I have something for you too, to say thanks for tonight.”
I shook my head. “That’s not necessary.” Any sweet gesture would only make it harder to forget how much fun we had together, laughing and verbally sparring. “I’m happy to help.”
